Making Do With Unrequited
by Jewcika
Summary: He should have known better than to mess with Eric Cartman's head. Jew boy is mine. CartmanKyle. Oneshot.


Eric Cartman sat at his desk, frantically writing and erasing marks on what appeared to be blueprints. He alternated between eating Cheesy Poofs and writing, mumbling to himself.

"Yes. And I'll enter through this window, so - no, maybe a direct approach. What do you think about route four, Clyde Frog?"

He stared at the stuffed animal, stitched up around the neck, sporting a variety of stains, and faded from years of wear. It sat motionless on Cartman's desk, yet Cartman stared at it intently.

"What do you mean 'duh'? It's not 'duh' at all, Clyde Frog. You know as well as I do that there's many different ways to enter Kahl's house, each with its own advantages and disadvantages. Still… I suppose entering his room directly would serve the purpose best."

He stared at the stuffed animal. It was, again, seemingly silent.

"Do you really think I don't know how to undo the locks on it? If you recall correctly, his Jew mom put the locks on his window after he got HIV. That was seven years ago, Clyde Frog! Geez, it's not like I haven't had the time."

Silence.

"Fuck you. It does _not_ make me gay. It's just his Jew powers at work."

Silence.

"Yeah, at first he will. But it's _obvious _that he'll eventually give in to my hot body."

Silence.

"Ay! I'm not fat, you piece of shit!"

00

Kyle slowly began drifting out of sleep as he felt the foot of his bed sag. As he became more aware of his surroundings, he felt cold air coming from the window. Why was the window open? He shot up in bed and looked around in a groggy daze.

"Well, well, well. I'm glad to see you're finally awake, Kahl."

Kyle looked to the foot of the bed and rubbed his eyes, being met with a familiar face and a Cheshire cat grin. Either he was still asleep or something seriously fucked up was going on. He squinted at the intruder, his mind struggling to keep up at two in the morning.

"…fatass? What the fuck are you doing in my room? Get out. It's creepy," he mumbled, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. He didn't want to deal with this shit. He felt Cartman shift on the bed, moving closer to him.

"Kahl, Kahl, Kahl. All these years. All those times when you looked away. When you inadvertently penetrated me with your gaze, driving me crazy with sick desire. Well, tonight's my night. Mine will be a penetration beyond the veil of the flesh," he whispered in what he thought was a seductive yet frightening tone of voice. In reality, he only succeeded in sounding like he had laryngitis.

Kyle backed himself up towards his headboard with each word Cartman spoke, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised. Honestly, he was terrified that Cartman had finally snapped and he would be the first victim in his insane killing spree. "What are you talking about? Why are you quoting The Fly? And stop saying words three times!" Kyle looked at him, completely baffled and bemused as to what was going on.

"There's no use in pleading now, Kahl. You had your chance to do this the easy way, but it's dead and gone now. Your innocence is mine."

Kyle continued to stare at him quizzically, more confused than he'd ever been. Until Cartman got closer and laid a hand on his thigh, that is. "DUDE! Sick!" he yelled, pulling his legs to his chest and attempting to kick Cartman away. He paused. "And I'm not a virgin, you bastard!"

Cartman laughed in a burlesque manner, shaking his head. "Oh, Kahl. There's no use lying. I know everything there is to know about you." He stared at him and Kyle stared back. After a few seconds, Kyle slowly shook his head.

"Bertha Red. Back in freshman year. I bragged about it for a week remember?"

Cartman frowned and punched the mattress. "Dammit! I was supposed to be the one to take your 'v'!"

"…my 'v'?"

"Virginity, dumbass."

"…Cartman, I've got to say that this is completely fucked up. Even for you. Go home, right now, and I won't tell the guys you tried to rape me." Kyle flattened himself against the headboard, as if it would put more space between him and the obese boy in front of him.

His tense shoulders relaxed a bit when he noticed Cartman backing off slightly, but he tensed again and tried to scramble off the bed when he saw something glistening in the moonlight shining through the window. Before he could move any further, the larger boy overpowered him, smashing his fist against his stomach and knocking the wind out of him. He took advantage of Kyle's temporary state to tie his wrists together with a strand of thick yarn, managing to grip his shoulder with one hand and brandish the knife menacingly in the other. He could feel Cartman's breath on his neck, hot and bothersome, making a chill crawl up his spine.

"No, I don't think I'll go home just yet. You thought you could charm me with your Jew powers, huh, Kahl? Keep me squirming at a safe distance, right? Well, it seems your Jew mind control has backfired, isn't that right?" he whispered, his lips brushing the redhead's ear every so softly.

Kyle managed to feel annoyed over everything, despite the dangerous nature of the exchange and the close proximity of the knife to his neck. "Cartman, there is no fucking Jewish mind control. We've gone over this."

"And then you thought you would go ahead and be a tease," he continued, as if there had been no interruption. "Turning down my every move, my every request for just one measly date."

"You never made _any_ moves or requests, Cartman. You've never even shown any romantic," he shuddered as he spoke the word, "interest in me. I don't know what's going on in your head, but you've _never asked me out,_" he said, making sure to emphasize the last part. "Not that I wouldn't have punched you for doing it," he muttered under his breath.

Cartman smirked, their noses centimeters away. "Hush, Kyle. I'll show you that you don't toy with Eric Cartman. Unfortunately, I think you'll be enjoying it along the way."

Kyle's narrowed his eyes. "Are you even aware when other people are talking?" His feelings of rage and annoyance, however, immediately changed to panic when he felt a large hand grasp his jaw forcefully and a pair of lips on his. He tried to crane his neck and move his face away, but found cold metal pressing against his throat as soon as he moved. He was too stunned to register a tongue entering his mouth and roughly massaging his own, and even less capable of reacting.

He gasped when Cartman broke the kiss (although Kyle would never actually refer to it as such) and began kissing down his neck, repositioning the knife just underneath his jaw. Kyle fought the wave of nausea that hit him as the immediate panic dissipated enough for him to become completely aware of the other boy's lips sucking on his neck. He bit the inside of his cheeks to contain any sounds that fought to make their way out.

Suddenly, Kyle felt cold fingers inch their way underneath his shirt and caress his stomach, teasing the wasitband of his boxers. Newfound panic and nausea flooded his senses. He struggled and writhed, feeling the knife begin to dig itself deeper into his neck. Any further, and he was sure it would draw blood. Then, he stopped. He remained still for a second while flinching at every move Cartman smothered him with and every intimate rub from body to body. He suddenly began to make curious noises resembling those he remembered the "psychic" people made during the Left-Hand Killer fiasco.

Cartman paused and backed off a few inches to survey Kyle with a raised eyebrow. The confusion on his face was obvious. "What - what are you doing?"

Kyle felt relieved as the extreme discomfort that was Cartman's body moved away from his person and, most importantly, away from his crotch . "I'm using my Jew powers to stop you." He flinched as the words escaped him, unsure if it was because he could hear the trembling in his voice or because he was playing into Cartman's deluded ideas which had gotten him into this mess in the first place. He only hoped Cartman would be too dense to notice.

The brunette laughed nervously and removed the knife from his neck, backing away even more. "Yeah right, Kahl."

Kyle nodded, and continued to make the noises. "Yep. I'm making your head explode," he said as nonchalantly as he could manage. "Then I'll tell your mom that you left me your Wii as your dying wish," he added for good measure.

Cartman's eyes widened, and he let go of Kyle completely, crawling off the bed in clumsy haste. "Kahl - Kahl, no! Bad Kahl!"

Making use of his freedom, Kyle stood up waved his fingers at Cartman to add to the effect. He stretched the yarn around his bound wrists enough to reach into the drawer of his end table and procure a Torah, opening it clumsily and making Hebrew-sounding noises as he took a couple of tentative steps towards Cartman.

Cartman looked around frantically, and in his panic made a dive for the window. Kyle's jaw dropped and the Torah fell to the floor as he heard a hard crash outside. He ran over to the open window and looked down, ignoring the lights that suddenly illuminated the windows of the rest of the house. He surveyed the crumpled heap and shook his head.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbled to himself as his mother came into the room with a sleepy Gerald trailing behind.

"Kyle? I heard a loud noise. Are you okay in here?"

Kyle turned to look at her and blinked, trying to form words through his startled daze. "I… yeah. Just - Cartman came into my room and tried to rape me. Then I pretended to use my Jew powers to make his head explode and he jumped out the window," he said tiredly as he pushed past his parents and made his way to the bathroom across the hall. "I'm going to get this string off my wrists, vomit for a while, and then I'm going back to bed." He pushed the door closed and locked it, ignoring his parents' protests. The first thing he would do tomorrow morning was get bars put on his window.


End file.
